Delivering Kadlin by Gabrielle Holly Read Free Book Online Page B

like a beacon. Surely, this was Freya, come to show her the way again.
    It was almost full dark when a glow of dusky light shone through the buck’s antlers. Kadlin cried out in relief. The stag bounded off the trail, back into the forest a moment before her pony stepped into the wide clearing. At the center of the space was a huge red stone, taller than a man, and she could just make out the sharp angles of the runes in the setting sun.
    Kadlin dismounted, unburdened her pony and tied him to the edge of the clearing where he immediately bent his head to eat the tender grass. She set her gear in the shadow of the monument and quickly made a small fire. She drank from her wineskin and had a meager dinner of tough, dried venison. Before closing her eyes for the night, she added another log to the fire to keep away the predators. The long, fearful ride had drained her body and fatigued her mind. She was fast asleep as soon as she laid down her head.
    She was up at first light. The fire had burnt out, and she chewed mouthfuls of jerky while she loaded the pony. The path east was broad and clear, and she thanked Freya for seeing her safely through this first leg of the journey. She set off on the trail, grateful for having survived thus far and wondering what this day, and especially the evening, would bring. Tonight, she would face her uncle’s debtor. She would deliver the jarl his due. And if the gods saw fit, she would win her lover’s freedom.
    * * * *
    By the time the sun was directly overhead, Kadlin smelled the salt in the air. The trees to her left grew sparser. An hour later, the earth to the north dropped away to a low, sheer cliff, and she heard the waves breaking on the shore. The trail dipped up and down along the coastline until she traveled at the level of the sea. The water was a cold gray and seemed to go on to the end of the world. It was not yet sunset when she saw the first sod house ahead. Cattle were penned in neat corrals and rows of fish hung drying on tall racks.
    As she rode, the houses came closer together. The belly of the sun was just touching the horizon when she led her pony into the little village. The buildings were in neat rows along wide roads that radiated out from a huge stone well. Children chased one another between the homes, and it took Kadlin a moment to realize that there were no adults outside.
    A group of boys caught sight of her and threw down the sticks they’d been using for make-believe swords. They ran up to her, and she stopped her pony.
    A tall boy with long, light brown hair was the first to speak. “Who are you?” he demanded.
    “I am Kadlin. Who are you?”
    “I am Ulf, son of Gunnar.”
    “Ah, Ulf, ‘the wolf’. A strong name for a strong Viking.”
    The boy puffed out his chest. “What do you want?”
    Kadlin bit back a smile. It was obvious that this boy had been put in charge, and he was taking his job very seriously. “I am looking for the jarl.”
    “Are ye friend or foe?” he asked, squinting up at her.
    “I’m friend. But if I were foe, I probably wouldn’t tell you, now would I?”
    The other boys laughed and jostled their leader. “Shut up, ye sons of whores!” he thundered and shoved the nearest boy into the dirt.
    He squinted back at Kadlin. “What’s your business with the jarl?”
    “I come bearing gifts. He’s expecting me.”
    The boy looked her up and down. “You’re a pretty one. What kind of gifts could you have for the jarl?”
    “It is a secret. If I spoke it aloud, I would ruin the surprise, and the jarl would be very disappointed.”
    The boy crossed his arms over his chest. “He’s busy.”
    “Busy with what?”
    “They’re celebrating the voyage.”
    Kadlin’s stomach knotted, and the threat of tears pricked at her eyes. “They’ve sailed then?”
    Ulf rolled his eyes. “No, you daft woman, they’ve not sailed yet! They leave in the morning. They’re celebrating tonight.”
    Kadlin huffed out a breath of relief. It